Wraith

Chapter 1

Flashes

Wilson watched as House scrolled through the hospital directory. "What are you looking for?"

"Optomology. I need my eyes checked."

"Problems?"

"Yeah, I keep seeing spots flit in front of my eyes."

"Blood pressure?"

"123/80."

"Hmm."

Wilson plopped down into the chair in front of the desk and relaxed his muscles, enjoying a respite from the horrors of losing a nine year old to brain cancer. He watched the rain falling outside and smiled when a sprig of lightning lit up the sky and the dim room.

House dialed and sat back, staring at Wilson as he thought about his own eye problems. While waiting for someone to pick up, he followed Wilson's gaze and turned to see the lightning strike again, followed very quickly by a helatious clap of thunder. He blinked and there it was again-a flicker in the corner of his eye, like a white feather flittering in the wind lit up by the lightning. His whole body jolted and then he blinked several times to make it go away.

"Seeing it again?" Wilson asked.

House nodded, his palms slightly moist from the adrenalin pumping through his body. He took a deep breath as he listened for someone to pick up the extension.

"Optomology."

"I need to make an appointment."

"We have an opening next month at—"

"No, it might be irreversible if you don't see me now. This is Dr. House."

There was a pause and a cautious response,"Dr. Gregory House?"

"Yeah."

A deep sigh of exasperation escaped the receptionist's mouth. "I'll check. Hold on." A minute passed and she came back. "We can see you in half an hour, will that work?"

"I'll be there."

Wilson already knew when House dialed for the appointment that House would get his way. It never occurred to him that the optometrist might say no. "After your appointment, want to get a drink?" he suggested.

"Yeah. Want to just meet at McGillicuddy's?"

"Sure. Five?"

"Five."

McGillicuddy's wasn't a dive, but it was off the main club circuit. Only regulars and their guests tended to park their butts at the bar. It smelled better than most bars because they tended to sell a lot of cocktails, but there was still enough beer spilled for it to retain its integrity as a bar. House liked it because there was a piano and the bartender let him play on occasions. He was twenty minutes early on purpose.

"Hey Doc, where you been lately?" Eddy, a tall, thin guys with a horselike face, said as he wiped down the bar and began to rinse glasses.

"Around." House nodded towards the piano and Eddy nodded an approval. House took a seat and began to play some blues and jazz numbers until Wilson walked in and sat down at the bar, ordering a gin and tonic and turning to watch House play.

House ended with "I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm" and then took a seat next to Wilson. The bartender grabbed some Jack Daniels and poured it, a free one for the entertainment. House turned and paused when he saw a white light behind Wilson; it was cloudy but not quite without form. There was something in the haze that he was seeing, but he wasn't sure what.

"Crap," House said to himself.

Wilson turned to pay attention. "Crap, what?"

"I'm having those eye problems."

"Maybe you shouldn't drive."

"No, I see everything and I see this white fluffy thing."

"You're not seeing Amber are you?"

House rolled his eyes. "I won't even dignify that."

"Okay, then what is it?"

"Don't know." House took a drink and thought about it. The world's greatest diagnostician and I don't know what's wrong with me.

"How did it go with Cuddy?"

House winced and squirmed a little on the stool. He liked the stools at Mc's, they were large and they swiveled. "Uh…we're on another time out."

"You've been having a lot of time-outs lately. Getting back together doesn't seem to be working. You're in deep do-do this time."

"Yeah, well, what can I say? I just had coffee with her."

"You had coffee with Stacy when she was down last month and coffee with Lydia when she moved back to Princeton. And now, drumroll please, coffee with Cate? You had to have gone out of your way to track her down. What's going on with you? It's like you're purposefully sabotaging your relationship with Cuddy."

House sat and thought a minute about Wilson's observations. It was true; he didn't need to have the House-whisperer tell him that he was consciously throwing road blocks into his relationship. He looked back at Wilson and then saw a woman sitting on the bar. House pulled his head back in surprise. She was staring at him, boredom written in big bold strokes across the contours of her face. She flinched when she realized that he was tracking her, watching her. Turning her head away, she slowly slipped off the bar and started to walk towards the door, avoiding bumping into people at all costs.

"Who was that?" House asked.

Wilson turned and looked behind him. "Who?"

"That woman standing by the door."

"What woman?"

"You can't see her because that crowd of Neanderthals are blocking her, but she was sitting on the bar about five feet behind you."

"I didn't see her."

The front door opened. House couldn't see if she left, but he did see a crowd of hot thirtish women enter, taking his mind off the woman.

"Hot babes at two o'clock. A real trifecta."

Wilson turned back to the door again and watched the three women take a booth. It was like a wet dream come true. All were gorgeous and there was a blond, a brunette and a red head. Wilson whistled to himself. "You aren't kidding. Should we make a move?"

"The red head is married—ring on left finger. You like blonds, I'm partial to brunettes, so do we have a plan of attack?"

"Sounds good to me. What about Cuddy?"

"We're just going over to have a drink. It's not like I'm going to ask for a hand job under the table."

Wilson and House approached the women who all turned towards them, indicating with their body language that were receptive to their intrusion. Wilson sat next to the blond as House grabbed a chair and sat at the end of the booth. After an hour, the red head went home to her husband and House moved into the booth next to the brunette. Now on their fourth drink, the foursome was flirting and playful.

The door opened and Wilson looked up. A painful look crossed his face. House turned to see what he was staring at, shoulders collapsing as he closed his eyes.

"House, can I talk to you?" Cuddy growled.

House bit his lower lip and slid out of the red vinyl seat grabbing his cane from then end. They walked outside. Cuddy already had tears in her eyes.

"Why?" She asked.

"Why what?"

"Why are you here, in that booth, with a woman?"

"We didn't have plans so I agreed to meet Wilson for a drink. We were sitting in the booth when the women walked in, Wilson knew one of them, she's gone home to her husband, and we stayed to finish our drinks."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Nothing's going on!"

"I was driving home and saw your car here. I thought I'd join you for a drink and then I find you snuggled in a booth with a gorgeous brunette."

House frowned. "Let's go back in, you can meet the girls and then you'll see we weren't doing anything."

"House, I don't know why you're purposefully meeting up with other women, some of them significant women in your life, and you're making sure I find out. Why?"

"Lisa—"

"No, no. I'm done with this. I need some time to think. I don't want you going with me to my sister's tomorrow…I think we need time apart."

"Lisa, don't do this."

"I have to. I'll talk to you soon." Cuddy turned to leave.

"Lisa!"

But Cuddy walked at a fast clip to the side parking lot and jumped into her car, pealing out of the lot faster than she normally drove. House grimaced as he turned back to the bar. Once back at the booth, he noticed that everyone was very sober.

"She okay?" Wilson asked.

House shrugged. "But I think I need another drink."

"We were going to go back to Lorrie's place . Are you going to be able to drive?" Wilson asked.

"I'll take a cab."

House took a cab—with Nancy—back to Nancy's place where he stayed for a few drinks, a few tongue kisses and then he took a cab home, having left Nancy passed out on the sofa. He wasn't sure if he would have gone through with getting her into bed anyway. He wanted to, but underneath, House felt he owed Lisa more.

The first thing on his agenda was sleep. As he stood hanging his coat, House paused, wishing he knew what he really wanted out of his relationship with Cuddy—wishing he could talk to someone. But Nolan was studying in England and Wilson was screwing his brains out. Closing the door, he saw someone dart into his bedroom.

"Hey!" He grabbed his cane and went running into his bedroom, but it was empty. He opened the wardrobe—nothing. Under the bed—nothing. The room was cool, not cold, just cool. Bathroom, they must have run into the bathroom. House swung open the white panel door and threw back the bathtub curtain only to hear the front door open and close. Running out to the living room, he stuck his head out the door, but the intruder had made a quick departure. Checking the rest of the apartment, there was nothing missing or even rearranged.

After brushing his teeth with his new sonic toothbrush and changing into his striped lounge pajamas, House crashed onto his pillowtop mattress and fell into a deep sleep. His dreams were crazy; he kept seeing Cuddy standing over him, her lips a solid line because they were so tightly pursed. She stood, arms crossed, as he had sex with the three women. Cuddy was directing him, telling him which to kiss, who to fondle, how to screw. He was getting angrier by the minute until he jumped up and walked away in a huff. Cuddy screamed at him, "Where the hell do you think you're going? You haven't screwed the blond." House woke up and thought he heard giggling in his ear. He flipped over, but it must have been a remnant of his dream.

Christ, now she's telling me who to screw in my dreams.

Getting up, he shuffled into the bathroom without turning a light on and peed, taking pleasure in the fact that his system was almost back to normal. After years of Vicodin abuse his bowels and kidneys had taken some hard knocks, but now he was no longer constipated or having trouble peeing. His last rehab, forced on him by the Board, Cuddy and Wilson, had worked. Nolan had him free of drugs again.

Unable to go back to sleep, he took a seat on the sofa and put his legs up on the ottoman. He had a light headache so he put his hand up to his forehead and pressed to see if pressure would help. A cold air passed over him causing him to look up. He saw a face, or was it a face? It was gone as quickly as it had appeared. House froze; his mind raced. Hallucinating? Am I hallucinating again? Fuck! "I just need sleep—that's all," he said out loud. Debating on what he should do, House decided against taking sleeping pills. He stood up and went into the kitchen and saw the woman from the bar sitting at the table, head resting on her knuckles, supported by her elbow. Her eyes followed him but didn't register that he was following her. The look on her face went from boredom to abject horror. She suddenly realized that he was staring at her! Not the chair, not the table, but her!

She was gone and House was drained of all color. The woman had disappeared, but of course she didn't disappear—she had to be a hallucination. Crap!

House thought about calling Wilson, but it was midnight and he was either getting his groove on or asleep. He decided to drink some milk and try going to bed again. Pulling the milk out, he looked around and thankfully there was no one. Walking back to the bedroom, he nodded off around two and slept until eight.

Getting into work at ten, House groaned when he realized that he was going to have to pass by Cuddy in the lobby. She turned and looked up just as he walked in through the lobby doors. It was clear from her awkward look that she hadn't expected to run into him. Nodding first, she put her head down, walking past him as fast as her Jimmy Choos could take her. Obviously, she wasn't ready to give him an answer or deal with him.

House spent most of the gray day trying to diagnose a young woman who had been transferred from Princeton General with swollen knee joints, heartburn, involuntary jerky movements of the body, halting and slurred speech and facial grimaces along with a very mild rash that didn't itch. After less than two hours, House had diagnosed an unusual presentation of rheumatic fever and was treating the patient with anti-biotics. Normally, he would brag to Cuddy how he had diagnosed the patient so quickly, but he didn't really want her to know that he had nothing to do. The last thing he wanted was to be assigned clinic duty.

House decided to sneak down to the cafeteria where he grabbed a strawberry-banana smoothie and found a booth with a newspaper that someone had left behind. He became engrossed in an article about the history of jazz in Kansas City, noting that the jazz museum was there and contemplating on taking a trip to Cowtown. After finishing the article, he looked up and saw the same faint outline of the same woman he'd seen last night. She was sitting across from him, but was looking out towards the other tables as if she was bored and watching the world go by.

House blinked his eyes several times, but she didn't disappear. He banged loudly on the table causing most of the people to turn and look. That got her attention. Startled she looked at him and then jumped up and floated through the crowd-literally floated through the crowd.

Wilson walked over and sat where she had been. "What's wrong? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

House was about to confess that he had, but knew that it would raise all kind of flags that House didn't want to deal with until he was sure—sure that he was hallucinating again. "It's nothing. I'm just tired, not sleeping much."

"Problems?"

"Just stressed."

"When does Nolan get back?"

"Next week."

"Maybe you should call his office and make an appointment?"

House nodded and when Wilson eventually left, he dialed Nolan's office and made an appointment for the following Friday.

"Dr. House, is there something specific that you need to see Dr. Nolan about?'

"Yeah, tell him he's the star of my wet dreams."

"Fine." She said without any hint of surprise or disgust. "We'll see you next Friday."

Boy is she jaded.

House went back to see Wilson. "Can you give me something to sleep?"

Wilson looked skeptical.

"Just a short term dose…just so I can get some sleep tonight."

Wilson nodded and took out his prescription pad writing him a prescription for five doses of Lunestra. "I'm giving you five pills. If you need more, come and see me and we can talk about something stronger that might help. Have you heard anything from Cuddy? Are you out of the doghouse?"

House shook his head. "No, haven't heard anything yet."

"You don't seem upset."

"I'm not. Frankly, it's been a relief."

"Then why aren't you sleeping?"

"That's the 64 million dollar question. I'm having trouble sleeping, but I'm not disturbed by what's going on with Cuddy." House wanted to add, And why am I having hallucinations?

House took a pill that night and managed to squeeze in five hours straight of sleep. He felt better the next morning and decided to go shopping for some new shoes. Nike had two new models that just came out. He enjoyed his sneaker shopping, picking up each new model, turning them over, trying them on, imagining running the New York marathon like he did the year before the infarction. At least he was enjoying shopping until he heard a voice in his ear.

"Why do we always have to go to sneaker stores? Couldn't you buy shoes in a regular store…where I could at least look at some Louboutins?"

He slowly turned his head and sitting in the row of chairs behind his back he saw her. She was slumped down in the chair looking up at the ceiling and blowing her bangs up out of her face. The woman was obviously bored until she suddenly realized he was looking at her. This time she was almost in focus, solid, only the edges were fuzzy. House rubbed his eyes.

"Who are you?"

She was gone.

House stood up and looked around just as the sixteen year old brought him the newest Nikes to try on. "Did you see her?"

The kid looked confused.

"The woman, that woman sitting behind me?"

Still dazed.

"Do you have a security camera?"

"Uh, yeah." The kid said quietly.

House pointed out the door. "That woman just stole some shoes. We need to look at the tape."

Still confused, House gave the clerk a look that made him afraid for his life. He scurried to the back where the shoes and the security monitor were. House waited a few seconds and when the kid didn't come out he went behind the curtain to see where he had gone. He saw a twenty-something woman and the kid looking at a small television monitor. House walked up.

"Sir, you aren't allowed—" The woman began.

"Did you see her?" House asked without introduction.

"Sir, there's no one on here…just you."

House walked over and watched the monitor. He saw him sitting in the shoe store and then he turned around, looked at the empty chair behind him, said something to the empty chair and then eventually turned back to the sixteen year old. House could feel his heart start to beat up against his chest.

Not again. Not again.

House walked out of the store and kept walking through the mall until he couldn't walk anymore. Exhausted, he sat down. Taking his cell phone out, he dialed Nolan's office.

"I need to talk to Nolan."

"Who is this?" The female voice asked.

"Greg House. I need to talk to him."

"Dr. Nolan isn't here."

"I know that! I need to talk to him. Tell him it's an emergency."

"I'll try to reach Dr. Nolan, but I can't promise, he's in transit."

"Just try."

House provided her with his cell phone number and then went back to his apartment, waiting for a call. Two hours later, he the phone rang.

"House?"

"Yeah, Nolan?"

"I don't have much time. I'm taking the red eye out of London. What's wrong?"

"I'm hallucinating again."

There was silence.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Well…I think I am."

"Who are you hallucinating about?"

"A stranger."

"Vicodin?"

"No. I'm clean."

"Hmmm. Have you made an appointment?"

"Next Friday."

"I'll make room for you on Monday. Come and see me at nine."

"I'll be there."

"Don't panic; we'll figure this out."

"Yeah, right."

House hung up and sat back.